


Catch and Release

by Cantatrice18



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Breaking and Entering, Empathy, Gen, Kidnapping, Memory Charms, Missing Backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:26:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9276032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Cantatrice18
Summary: Credence goes missing from the New Salem meetings, and Tina is determined to find out why, even if doing so puts her (and the entire wizarding world) in danger of exposure. Her foray into the New Salem meetinghouse results in her capture and imprisonment, but an unexpected ally comes to her aid...Explains why Tina's memory involving Credence and Mary Lou bears no resemblance to the reason she gave for being fired. There was another incident MACUSA never knew about.





	1. Chapter 1

She hadn’t seen him in a while, not at the various New Salem meetings that occurred around the city or coming in and out of the witchhunters’ headquarters. She found herself searching for excuses to pass by whenever Mary Lou Barebone chose to sermonize on a street corner with her unfortunate brood of underfed waifs. But he was never there. The only logical answer was that something must have happened to him. Could he have fallen ill or had an accident of some kind? Had he run away, without her realizing it? Or was it simply that Mary Lou had found yet another way of punishing the poor boy by locking him away? 

She found it impossible to concentrate on her work. Images of the bruise she’d seen along his jaw and the barely healing lashes on his palms drove all thought of law enforcement out of her head. Finally, two weeks after his mysterious disappearance, she decided it was time to take matters into her own hands. She wouldn’t interfere, not if it could be helped, but someone had to be aware of what was happening inside that headquarters in order to help the boy before it was too late. 

Accordingly she waited until nearly every other witch and wizard left MACUSA, under the guise of making up some overdue paperwork on a case. She left the Woolworth building just before midnight and apparated into an alley by the New Salem headquarters. As she suspected, nearly all the lights in the New Salem Headquarters were extinguished, with only a single lamp lit in a far upstairs corner. She waited until even that was extinguished, ducking into the shadows whenever she thought she heard a stranger approaching. Finally the building was dark, the street around it still and silent in the late summer night. She crept forward, surreptitiously drawing her wand from the pocket of her long black auror’s jacket and sending a silent spell at the imposing wooden door that made it swing silently open at her approach. “Lumos”, she whispered as she entered, raising her wand to light a path towards the stairs. Her footsteps were nearly silent, the entire building undisturbed, yet she hardly dared to breathe. He was here somewhere, she could feel it. Or even if he wasn’t, his hateful mother most certainly was. Mary Lou would die of happiness to catch an actual, bona fide witch breaking into her home. It would be like Christmas in August.

She had nearly reached the stairs when she heard a sound that made her heart skip a beat. A strange snuffling noise, like an animal, was coming from the upstairs gallery. She hid her wand at once, but not before she caught sight of a large black shape leaning against the railing, too big for a dog or even a child. The noise happened again, more like a whimper this time. “Credence?” she whispered. 

The whimpering stopped at once and she saw the faint outlines of the dark shape shift slightly to curl in on itself. “Credence, is that you?” she whispered again. 

The shape did not answer, and she bit her lip, unsure of her next move. If it wasn’t him, then she’d given her presence away and needed to escape before she was caught breaking both magical and no-maj law. If it actually was him, then she had confirmation he was alive. That should surely be enough. She’d only taken such drastic measures in the first place because she’d feared for his life. But then, if he were hurt, if that awful woman had spent two whole weeks torturing him, how could she possibly leave now? 

Abandoning caution, she ascended the stairs until she stood on the upper landing. There, hunched over and clutching his hands in pain, was Credence. She felt a rush of horror and knelt by his side, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder. He jumped, looking around wildly, his eyes wide and fearful in his sallow face. “It’s alright, I won’t hurt you,” she murmured, as soothingly as she knew how. “Let me see what she’s done to you.”

Her hand ran down his shoulder and arm until it reached his wrist and she was able to turn his palms toward her. In the dim light she could make out very little, and so without thinking she drew her wand one more and lighted it. In the blue glow she saw Credence’s look of shock and wonder, but her attention was on the bleeding sores that covered his hands. “Oh, you poor thing,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight. “Here, let me help.”

She raised her wand, but had barely begun to speak the spell when she felt something hard strike the back of her head. The world dissolved around her and she knew no more.


	2. Chapter 2

She couldn’t breathe. The air was full of a heavy, acrid scent that clawed at her nostrils. She was leaning against something soft, her legs twisted awkwardly beneath her. Her head pounded, the place where she’d been struck throbbing. She opened her eyes to find herself in a cramped, pitch-black closet, every available inch around her crowded with wool coats. The scent of mothballs and camphor made her head spin, and for a moment it seemed as though the walls were closing in on her. She forced herself to focus, biting the inside of her cheek to stop the panic rising in her. Her wand was nowhere to be found, but that much was to be expected. In front of her she could see a tiny keyhole, beyond which the harsh brightness of an electric light was visible. She struggled forward, trying to peer through the keyhole, but was hampered by the fact that her wrists were tightly bound behind her with some sort of thin rope. Her ankles had received the same treatment, and the realization of this was enough to send her mind reeling back into panic and terror. With great difficulty she managed to get her knees securely under her, enough that she could kneel and peer through the keyhole. The room beyond was spare, with a well-made bed and oak nightstand within her view. A bible lay on the pillow, and on the nightstand she saw several of the New Salem pamphlets warning against the dangers of witches. She guessed that she was in Mary Lou’s room, and the thought gave her no comfort. Guilt struck her hard, like a physical blow, as she imagined how much trouble her nighttime outing would cause MACUSA and the wizarding world. Thanks to her, thousands of witches and wizards across America were one step closer to exposure. She heard someone ascending the stairs nearby, their tread heavy and uneven as they approached. She held her breath until she caught sight of a familiar shadow through the keyhole. “Credence? Is that you?”

The boy did not answer, nor did he leave, which she chose to take as a good sign. “Credence, are you alright? Did she hurt you?”

This seemed to startle him, for his shadow shifted out of her view. “Please, don’t go,” she pleaded, ashamed of the fear in her own voice. “Credence, wait!”

She heard the soft rustle of his clothing as he approached the door. Then her view through the keyhole was blocked by his body, the rough black wool of his trousers near enough for her to smell the cheap, harsh soap he washed them with. When he spoke, it was as a whisper through the crack between the door and the doorframe. “Are you a witch?”

Tina swallowed. The camphor fumes were affecting her more than she’d thought, sending waves of nausea through her. “Credence, I need you to let me out. We can talk afterwards.”

“Are you?” Credence asked, undeterred. 

Tina gritted her teeth, hoping she was not about to make the biggest mistake of her life. “Yes, Credence. I am.”

More cloth rustling, and her view of the room was restored. Credence was nowhere in sight. Tina rested her forehead on the unforgiving wood of the door, cursing herself in every language she knew for being foolish enough to get into such a mess in the first place. This would never have happened if she hadn’t let her emotions run away with her, if she hadn’t put Credence’s safety over that of her own people. Another bout of nausea hit her, and it was all she could do to keep from retching. She could feel sweat forming on her brow and on the back of her neck, chilling her. Through her discomfort she heard someone else approaching. Before she had time to plan, the door swung open, light from the room streaming into the dark closet. Taken by surprise, Tina fell face first into the room, banging her shoulder on the hard floor. She bit her lip to keep from crying out and rolled onto her side to face whomever it was who had freed her. 

Standing over her, his long limbs handing awkwardly at his sides, stood Credence. The way he was staring at her made her feel like some freak show exhibit the no-maj crowds would pay five cents to gawp at. She could feel herself blushing as she took in the state of her own clothes, her blouse half untucked and her trousers ripped at the knees. She was not exactly the model of grace and poise she longed to be. Feeling as though she might as well break the tension, she cleared her throat. “Thank you, Credence. You’re very kind.”

Credence glanced behind him at the closed door leading to the staircase, then back at her. “You’re a real witch then, with magic?” When Tina nodded reluctantly, he knelt at her side. “Can you show me?”

Tina sighed. “I’m not allowed, Credence. Witches aren’t supposed to do magic around no-maj—around non-magical people. It protects us from people who would hurt us, like…” She trailed off uncomfortably. “And anyway,” she added gloomily, “Your mother took my wand when she attacked me. I won’t be doing much magic without it.”

Credence reached into his pocket and drew out a handkerchief. Holding it in both hands, he unfolded it to reveal a carved length of reddish wood that seemed to call to Tina like a living thing. “Oh, Credence,” she whispered.

Credence closed his hand over the wand’s handle, brows knit in a frown. “If I give it back to you, what will you do?”

“Modify your mother’s memory,” Tina replied at once. For some reason, she found it difficult to lie to the boy. His dark, hungry eyes drew her in. “Make her forget she ever saw me.”

“You can do that? Make their memories change, just like that?”

The hope in his eyes was painful to watch. “I can and I have to,” Tina said. “It’s dangerous for her to know witches really exist. She’s just the sort of person all of us, I mean all witches and wizards, are afraid of.”

“How many more of you are there?” the boy asked. “Could I become a wizard and learn to change memories?”

Tina shook her head, hiding her pity as best she could. “I’m afraid not, Credence. Wizards are born, not made, you see.”

Credence’s face fell and he looked down at the wand. “What would happen if I broke this?” he asked curiously.

Tina flinched. “If you break it,” she said slowly, “Then I will be entirely at your mother’s mercy.”

She looked away, unable to watch her wand destroyed. Since her first day at school, it had been her most trusted ally, second only to her sister. Losing it was like losing a friend.

She braced herself for the sound of breaking wood. Instead she heard Credence drop to his knees beside her and felt hands awkwardly tugging at the binding around her ankles. A moment later her legs were free and she struggled to sit up. Credence glanced fearfully at the door before moving behind her and starting on the knot that kept her wrists pinioned. She could hear his shallow, nervous breathing, smell the rust-like tang of dried blood. “Credence, she hurt you,” Tina said quietly, her heart sinking. “After she tied me up, once I was out of her way. She did, didn’t she?”

The cords around her wrists loosened, then fell away, and Credence stood once more, circling in front of her. He looked defensive and ashamed, his hands in his pockets. “Let me see,” Tina urged. “Please Credence, maybe I can help.”

Credence paused, looking torn. “Why did you come here?” he demanded. 

“Because I was worried about you,” Tina replied simply. “I hadn’t seen you in a while, and I was worried you were ill or injured.”

“Why do you care?” Credence whispered. He looked as though he were about to cry. “What does it matter to you if I’m hurt?”

“It matters because you’re a person, Credence,” Tina told him. “It matters because no child, large or small, deserves to be hurt by someone calling themselves a mother. It matters because you deserve so much better.”

Slowly, carefully, Credence withdrew his hands from his pockets and held them out to her. The palms were raw and bloodied from a recent lashing, and he winced when she reached out to touch them. She took them both in her hands, concentrating as hard as she could. She’d never been much for wandless magic, but it seemed foolish to ask him for her wand now without some proof of her goodwill. Murmuring as many instructions as she could remember from her school days, she ran her fingers lightly over the wounds. The skin began to knit together, leaving the pink lines of new scar tissue. Credence gasped, but Tina did not look away from her task. Only when every open cut and sore was closed did she release his hands. “I’m no healer, Credence, I’m sorry. It’s the best I can do.”

Credence was examining his hands with a look of wonder on his face. His eyes, as he looked at her, were as innocent and childlike as she’d ever seen. “How did you—“

“Credence!”

The boy spun to face the door, white with terror. There in the doorway, looking absolutely livid, stood Mary Lou Barebone. “How dare you release her, you wicked child,” the woman spat. “How dare you aid in her devilish craft, allow her to practice her black magic on you!” 

She took a step into the room and Credence backed up, nearly crashing into Tina, who still knelt. Mary Lou’s lip curled in disdain. “Coward. You ungrateful wretch, easily swayed by the promises of a witch. Come here. Show me what she did to your hands.”

Credence was shaking, his hands behind his back. As Tina watched, his right hand dug into his back pocket and withdrew the handkerchief that enclosed her wand. She shifted so that Mary Lou could not see and took the wand from him, letting the handkerchief fall. The movement attracted Mary Lou’s attention, and the woman’s eyes widened in fear and anger when she saw the wand. “You—“

She did not have time to finish. Raising the wand high, Tina cast a stunning spell that sent Mary Lou sprawling. Rising slowly and painfully to her feet, Tina walked over to inspect her handiwork. Mary Lou’s eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, her expression one of shock. Credence came up behind Tina, looking at his mother in horror. “Is she dead?” he whispered.

“No, just stunned,” Tina replied. She knelt by Mary Lou’s body, resting her wand against the woman’s temple. “Obliviate,” she muttered, focusing on the events of the last four hours. Mary Lou’s expression changed to one of blank contentment, her eyes closing. “Help me with her,” she ordered, and Credence obeyed, carrying Mary Lou to the nearby bed. “She’ll wake up in a few hours with no memory of the night.”

Tina turned to look at Credence, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Credence, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid—“

“You have to take my memory too.” Credence looked away from his mother’s prone form and met her eyes. “To protect your secret.” Tina nodded and his shoulders slumped. “I wouldn’t tell.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Tina assured him. “But sometimes it isn’t as simple as not telling. Often magical people have ways of knowing things you never meant them to know.” Her thoughts wandered briefly to her sister, who would know the moment she got home exactly what had happened. “It’s better if there are no witnesses. But the healing charm will stay.”

Credence looked down at his newly healed palms. “I suppose I should thank you, then, Miss…?”

Impulsively, Tina hugged him. “Goldstein. And don’t worry, Credence. Just because you won’t remember me doesn’t mean I’ll ever forget you. I’ll keep watching over you, never you fear.”

He hugged her back, awkwardly at first, then tightly as though he never wanted to let go. “Do it quickly,” he said.

Tina nodded. There was a flash of light and Credence’s arms fell to his sides, his face assuming the same blank contentment as his mother’s. Feeling utterly miserable, Tina directed him to walk from his mother’s room to the bedroom he shared with his siblings and climb into bed. Once she was certain he was settled, she prepared to apparate home, but something stopped her. Casting a quick disillusionment charm upon herself, she crept through the upstairs of the meetinghouse until she was at the door of the children’s bedroom. Opening the door just a crack, she whispered a spell that sent a wisp of silver smoke floating into the room. She watched as it settled onto Credence’s sleeping body and dissolved. Then, satisfied, she turned once in place and disappeared.

As she rounded the corner of the alley beside their apartment building, she began to practice the excuses she would have to give Queenie to explain her appallingly late arrival home from work. She knew it was a futile exercise, as Queenie always read the truth on her anyway, but she liked to try. Even as she planned what she would say, a part of her mind was back in the meetinghouse with Credence, wondering when his siblings would wake him from the beautiful dream she’d given him. Even if he could not remember magic in real life, her dream would provide him with the wonders of dragons and mermaids, of ancient scrolls and high mountain castles, and would stay with him night after night. Mary Lou might think she’d beaten all thoughts of witchcraft out of him, but magic would be there in his dreams for as long as he needed.


End file.
